


let me take you away

by stuckonyoo



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 07:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckonyoo/pseuds/stuckonyoo
Summary: “I never thought I’d top you.”“Believe me,” Nayeon’s breath comes shuddering through bruised lips. “It came as a shock to me, too.”





	let me take you away

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd. this is just something that's been rotting in my notes. 
> 
> i failed english

“I never thought I’d top you.” 

Momo pushes herself up from Nayeon’s heaving chest, wanting to allow the girl enough space to ground herself. 

A teasing smile lingers on Momo’s lips when she moves in to kiss Nayeon’s mouth for a final time. “I never pictured you as a bottom.”

“Believe me,” Nayeon’s breath comes shuddering through bruised lips. “It came as a shock to me, too.”

Pressing another kiss to the top of Nayeon’s head, Momo says, “It’s a nice surprise,” and rolls off of Nayeon to lay beside her. 

Nayeon finds it a relief that Momo is confident with her body, and in turn, nudity. She’s never thought to describe the way another person moves as ‘pretty’ before, but as Momo shifts on the mattress to get comfortable, bed sheets low on her hips, Nayeon finds herself struggling not to marvel at the way Momo’s abdominal muscles stretch and create ripples under her skin.

“It makes sense, though,” Momo adds, drawing Nayeon’s eyes away from her toned stomach. “You like being taken care of.”

Nayeon shifts closer, and the quilt rustles. She slides her fingertips delicately along Momo’s hip, watching proudly as goosebumps prickle up across her skin.

“I feel powerful,” Momo says suddenly. Her lips stretch into a toothy grin, and then, “ _why_ are you laughing?” There’s no real malice in Momo’s voice, just affection as she watches Nayeon heave her body onto its side. She’s laughing heartily, not bothering to cover her mouth with her hands like usual.

Momo isn’t really thinking about how she looks when she holds up her right arm and squeezes her fists shut, tensing her biceps in some show of her newfound sense of strength. She’s mostly curious and isn’t even trying to make Nayeon laugh, but Nayeon does, _so_ much, and she sounds so happy Momo can’t even find it in herself to feel embarrassed. 

“Are you _flexing_?”

Momo’s arm weakens momentarily as she adopts the challenge of keeping a straight face, looking ridiculous as a seriousness (intentional, this time) washes over her once more. But it’s her expression – the way Momo scrunches up her nose, eyes drilling into her biceps as the muscle there hardens – that has Nayeon’s stomach filling up with warmth, and love, (and a little residual fear at the reminder of how easy it is to feel these things with Momo).

Momo finally lets her arm drop, satisfied with herself, Nayeon’s cackling fading into muted giggles. “Are you impressed?” Momo asks evenly.

“Your noodle arms are hardly impressive.”

Momo gasps. “ _Noodle_ arms?!”

“Is this all because you topped me? That doesn’t make you a top, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it makes me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Nayeon protests, although weakly. She’s in no real position to argue against the validity of Momo’s claim when she had been withering beneath the girl, just moments ago. “You’re like, a temporary top. Filling in.”

“A top is a top. Are you trying to take this away from me?” Momo wiggles her fingers, grinning, “there’s power in these hands.”

Nayeon tilts her head, a small smile tracing the edge of her lips. “You’re ridiculous, you know,” she muses warmly, tone full of adoration.

“You like it,” Momo tells her, said in a way that Nayeon is sure might classify as gloating.

(And Nayeon does kind of like it. It kind of gives Nayeon butterflies).

After the fight in them dies, Momo relaxes back into the bed and puckers her lips, inviting Nayeon to meet her halfway. Nayeon has never really been one to deny her.

“I don’t mind being a pretend top," Momo reflects quietly, honestly, "as long as it’s with you.”

Nayeon’s face turns serious, and Momo’s stomach lurches at the fear of having said something wrong. 

“It better only be with me. I don’t want anyone else seeing this Momo while we’re…” Momo watches insecurity wash over Nayeon’s face. “...sharing a bed.”

“I think we’re doing a lot more than sharing a bed.”

Nayeon’s eyebrow lifts, intrigued though anxious in the anticipation of Momo’s elaboration.

A part of her, quite a large part of her, has been dreading the day Momo might bring up the topic of wanting more — wanting an emotional commitment to build onto their existing physical one. She’s already sifting through the gentlest of options on how to let Momo down easy, excuses she’s had tucked away in her mind for a while now just in case, and Momo…

And Momo definitely isn’t as oblivious as she looks.

“I also share my fridge with you,” she says soothingly, settling the atmosphere back down into something more comfortable, “which I think is something you should really acknowledge.”

Nayeon is flooded with relief, but at Momo’s earnestness do her eyes roll. “We’ve stayed at yours twice, Romeo, and we ordered take-out both times. I’d hardly call that ‘sharing a fridge’.”

“It was your choice.” Momo reminds her. “Both times.”

Truthfully, Nayeon despises sleeping over at Momo’s. The girl has two thick memory foam mattresses stacked on top of one another, meaning anything you put on it sunk. Nayeon is sick of losing her phone beneath her, sick of the suffocating manner in which the mattress seemed to swallow people. It makes getting out of bed to use the bathroom a two-woman mission, and Nayeon’s knees are littered with bruises from having to roll out of it. 

_ “Get a damn rug, would you?” Nayeon had bristled one morning, nursing red knees. “What do you need your bed like that for, anyway?” _

Besides, Momo’s sheets were just _annoying_. They were crispy and made so much noise whenever Nayeon so much as wiggled her foot. Her whole setup was annoying. Nayeon refuses to stay there unless she can help it.

Momo shrugs. “And I still offer. It’s not my fault you choose not to exploit my services.”

Nayeon snorts. “That sounds… awful. You couldn’t have phrased that worse.”

“I’m sure I could’ve,” Momo hums thoughfully. “I could’ve said, ‘It’s not my fault you choose not to eat me out,’ as in, out of food. That’s worse, I think.”

Nayeon isn't sure what she did to really deserve her.

**Author's Note:**

> im either gonna delete this or expand on it


End file.
